Letter Writing
by bluster-squall
Summary: <html><head></head>Inquisitor Nevena Trevelyan despairs at her Knight-Captain and his habit of not eating. She attempts to interrupt his letter writing in order to coax him to eat. Her kind gesture somehow goes wrong.</html>


"Come down to dinner." She urged him. "Give yourself a break."

It was tempting. Staring at the pile of letters on his desk still left to answer, and his ink stained hand. And how his fingers were slightly curled and so cramped he couldn't straightened them right away made the prospect of dinner _very_ tempting.

But the letters needed answers. Some of them urgently. If he stopped now, he would come back full of food and sedated and more-than-likely he would fall asleep and it would be another night before they received the answers and attention they needed.

"I'll get something when I'm finished, Nevena." He rolled his neck, relieving it of the tension, a practice he was getting into the habit of, doing it at least once a hour when he was returning correspondence, otherwise he found he spent the next day or more with a terrible ache.

She released a huff of a sigh a few feet behind him. "When was the last time you had a hot meal?"

"Yesterday."

"What was it?"

Cullen twirled his quill in his fingers, "mutton stew?" he guessed.

He heard the woman rise to her feet, the sound of her shoes echoing off the stone floor as she crossed towards him. "Come on." Nevena's body appeared in front of him, as she took the quill from his fingers and lay it to one side. "You need to get a good meal in you. What's the point of having a kitchen full of cooks if you don't enjoy the food?"

Cullen avoided her gaze, "the soldiers here at Skyhold benefit. I'm not important."

"Yes, you are." Nevena argued, "they'd be a sorry lot without their Knight Captain."

He looked at her, all dark brown eyes and long dark-blonde hair, her brows furrowed in concern and frustration, and he fought to keep his breath.

By Maker, she was beautiful. And she had taken an interest in him. In _him_ of all people. A man who spent most of his time dealing with letters and put his job, his command, before everything, even his own need for food.

"Nevena," he reached up, attempted to cup her face.

"Don't you 'Nevena' me." Crossly, she swatted his hand away. "Come and eat."

Cullen sighed, "these letters won't write themselves."

"Maker, Cullen..." Nevena's voice had taken on a tone of warning, one that Cullen knew well enough when it was directed at others and not at him. "You are..." she rubbed her fingers across her temple and took a breath. "Alright, fine."

A moment later and the door to his chamber was closing on the hallway and Nevena had gone.

Cullen groaned into his hands as he rubbed them across his face and up into his hair. He was probably smearing ink all over himself, but he didn't rightly care at that moment. Nevena was quick to anger and also relatively quick to forgive, it was just the period of time between the anger and forgiveness that was the worst.

Just another thing on his list that he would need to deal with, if he ever finished replying to all these notes and letters and pleas for help and... everything. He knew the other leaders of the Inquisition had their own paperwork to handle, he wondered if it was ever as taxing for them as it was for him, to sift through piles of paper, to decide which ones were more important and needed immediate replies, and which could be left alone for a short time.

He stared down at the letter he had been in the progress of writing when Nevena had come into his chambers.

He stared at his hand writing. Neat. Very neat. Even in times of urgency he wrote neatly, he hoped it conveyed a sense of professionalism and calmness when it was read by the receiver.

Glancing at his quill and inkwell, he ignored them for the moment, instead reaching over them to the top of his desk where he kept a length of fabric. Something he used mostly for blotting when blotting paper wasn't available. It was covered in spots of ink, big and small. It even smelled a little like the ink he used. He drew it through his hands, something he did when he was thinking, trying to consider how best to word a reply.

The door to his chamber rattled and it startled him for a moment.

Something knocked against it, more insistent and Cullen rose up from his seat to open it.

Nevena walked in, her arms laden with a jug of ale, and dangling precariously off two fingers, two tankards. In her arms she carried about as much food as she could. A couple of flanks of pork, still dripping with fat, a large bowl of steaming vegetables, some cheese.

"If you're not going to eat in the hall with me and the others," Nevena announced, marching passed him and placing the tankards and jugs down first on the very edge of his desk, "then we'll eat in here."

He moved quickly, clearing a space on his desk, neatly putting the pages and paper to one side. He slipped the lid on the inkwell, and moved his quills up towards the top of the desk so nothing got touched by the plates and tankards.

"Nevena," Cullen sighed, looking at her as she leaned on the desk with one hand on her hip. Hair all array, out of its usual neat and professional confines. She had only been back at Skyhold since the afternoon. Being an Inquisitor meant she was gone, sometimes for weeks. More often than he liked - though he would never admit that to her. It was part of her job, and his job was to accept that.

"Eat!" She ordered, pointing at the food. "Maker save you Cullen, I will hold you down and feed you myself!"

He found himself laughing heartily at that, the vision of him being held down by her was laughable for one. He stood at least a foot taller than her, and while he had no doubt of her strength, he doubted she was as strong as he was.

Her expression confused, Cullen pulled the young woman into his arms, "thank you, Nevena." He muttered against her shoulder, the smells of the meal filling his nostrils and teasing his stomach. Now he had the scent of food in his room, he truly realised just how hungry he was.

"You're welcome." Nevena muttered, slipping her hands onto his shoulders. She pursed her lips, "you know... you haven't kissed me since I arrived back at Skyhold."

"I haven't?"

"No." She shook her head.

Cullen smiled easily, "I should rectify that."

"Yes." She nodded, "you should."

He leaned towards her, lips sliding across hers easily. They bumped noses, which caused Nevena to laugh and angle her head to one side. Cullen took full advantage of the moment, biting her bottom lip, and tracing his hands down, down past her waist and to her hips, cradling the small of her back with one large hand, he pulled her towards him, mouth insistent, devouring.

Hungry, now more for the blonde haired Inquisitor, than for the food on the table.

He had missed her.

The touch of her fingers as they weaved up into his hair, and the scent of her that lingered in his nose, over powering that of the food. He had missed her voice, her laugh, her scolding tone even when it was directed at him. But he had missed her lips the most. How kissing her was like a whole new experience in itself every time, how a single, brief touch of lips could leave him wanting and lusting after her like some rambunctious boy.

Her tongued moved with his, her fingers tangled and pulling lightly at his hair. Her head arcing back, pulling him closer, their kiss deeper.

He felt himself growing hard and knew they were on a slope that neither of them could hope to climb until they were both fulfilled. The food, the kind gesture, would have to be forgotten for now, while more baser needs were satisfied.

Her body pressed against his, his back against the door. She strained on her toes to kiss him, to meet his height, while he bent at the waist to accommodate her. As she rolled her hips against him, Cullen moaned into her mouth. He broke away, breathing heavily, while her lips travelled downwards, her teeth grazing his jaw until she was laying hot, out-mouthed kisses down his neck pulling his high collar aside with one hand.

He could feel the fingers of her free hand against his belt, subtly trying to pull it from its buckle. He felt his ink blotting material, still clasped in his fingers as they held her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath the buckskin britches she had chosen to wear.

"Nevena," Cullen spoke, his voice more a breathless growl.

"Mhm-" Her mouth was on his again, hot and demanding, she dug her fingers beneath his belt, and tugged, urging him to follow from the door to the bed which was across the room.

"I need to write a letter." He said, and as he expected, Nevena pulled away from him immediately, her face a mixture of passion, disappointment, frustration and frenzy. Her cheeks reddened with blush, her lips moist and still in a mid-kiss position.

"A letter." She repeated, dropping to the flats of her feet. "Now."

Cullen clasped both her hands in his and eased them behind her back, the impression of giving her a cuddle as he leaned his forehead down against her own and breathed in her scent deeply.

"Yes," he wound the material through his fingers and blindly trailed it over her hands and wrists. The brush of fabric seemed a sensation lost to her as she stared at him bewildered. "It's very urgent." He added.

"Really?" Nevena grumbled, missing the mischief in Cullen's voice.

He completed the knot, tying her hands together. Tight enough so she could not get loose without help, but not so tight that the fabric cut into her flesh.

He watched as realisation dawned on her, as she attempted to move her arms and found them bound, incapacitated. "Why are my hands tied together?" Nevena asked, eyes narrowed and voice wary. When Cullen's only answer was to have his mouth twitch at the corners playfully, her own lips curled into a cautious smile. "Cullen...?"

"Do you trust me?" Cullen asked, speaking with his mouth beside her ear. Her body shivered against his.

"Yes..." she answered after a few moments. Her eyes were downward, watching as his hands worked down her shirt, removing buttons from their holes one-by-one, dragging his fingers slowly down the side of her shirt across her burning skin. It was such a simple thing, by normal standards mundane and it should not have caused blood to rush or given her heart cause to flutter the way it did. Without the use of her own hands she was ultimately at his whim and will.

This was a side of Cullen she had not witnessed before.

"Good." Cullen kissed her, hard, removing one hand from her shirt to cradle her head. Immediately her hands strained against her bindings, wanting to hold and touch and reciprocate. She opened her mouth, welcoming the sensation of his tongue against her lips, of it rough against her own.

He pulled the fabric of her shirt from where it was loosely tucked into her comfortable leather britches and completed his unbuttoning.

Dragging his mouth away from her own, laughing at her groan of disapproval, Cullen pushed the material of her shirt down either arm so it hung behind her. He kissed her shoulder, licked the light build up of sweat between her breasts and pulled at the material of her bra with his teeth, all the while his hands descended lower, unbuckling the belt around her waist and easily unlacing the front of her britches so they slackened around her.

On his knees before her, cradled her back in one large hand, pushing her towards his mouth where he bit and nibbled at the flesh of her navel. He worked one boot of with his free hand and then swapped so he could do the same with the other, discarding the boots on either side of her.

Then the dark leather pants, he peeled them off with a mixture of his hands, fingers calloused and rough against her naturally tan skin and his mouth, pulling roughly at times while holding her fast with his hands on her legs.

Nevena obliged him stepping out of the leather britches as they reached her feet and they, like her boots were put to one side without care.

Standing, Cullen stood back a few feet to admire and drink in the sight of his Inquisitor, bare and naked to him but for her small clothes.

Her skin flushed red across her chest and belly, her breasts - pushed out with her hands tied behind her as they were - rising and falling with each short, excited breath. Dark brown eyes staring at him through lowered lashes. The first and only time he had witnessed her appear submissive. He was able to look - really look - at her body for the first time. How her flesh curved at her waist, how she had wide hips. Where her flesh was toned from training with weapons and fighting, the outline of muscles. A scattering of scars across her body, the largest and most imposing one that split across the top half of her body from her left shoulder to her right hip.

He examined the moles and imperfections he could see on her skin and crossed his arms before him, determined to imprint this image into his mind to warm him on cold nights when she wasn't there.

He was hard, straining to be released, pushed by want and desire. If he wasn't listening, enjoying himself, he would have done there and then. Taken her hard and deep, made her moan and cry out his name when fulfilment came.

Instead he ignored his want for her. Letters did not write themselves after all.

Moving towards her, he applied a light kiss to her mouth, catching her top lip between his own two. "You are beautiful, you know that?"

"Cullen..." Nevena almost whined. She shivered a little, leaning her body into his hand as it trailed down over the curve of her waist to settle at her hip.

As he dropped to his knees before her, Cullen lay kisses across her flesh, down across her breasts and over the expanse of her stomach. Even as he knelt, he could smell her arousal.

Drawing his hands across the flesh of her thighs, around the back of her legs up to her buttocks. She wobbled a little, he steadied her, bringing her towards him in turn. Nudging her legs open wider with his nose, he bit down on the skin of her inner thigh and was immediately reward with a hiss from above him.

He kissed the spot he had bitten a moment ago, only to repeat the action on another area of skin, each bite rewarded with a hiss or gasp of pleasure from above, and each of those reward with a kiss where he had bitten.

His kisses drew him upwards, to her core, still kept modest by her flimsy cotton small clothes. Without warning, he nuzzled at the material and what lay beneath it with his nose and mouth, hearing the breath of his lover above him catch in her throat. Opening his mouth, he drew the flat of his tongue across the fabric, pushing up against her, tasting her wetness already through the cotton.

Nipping on the remaining clothing with his teeth, he pulled gently, slowly, easing the cloth down over the roundness of her hips and backside. He used his hands, pulling the small clothes down and he helped to keep Nevena steady and she stepped out of them.

He leaned back on his heels, admiring what was before him, a curtain a coarse dark blonde hair, a few small reddening marks on her inner thighs where he had bitten, and the scent of her excitement. He looked back, his eyes drifting upwards back over her torso to herself. If possible she was more flushed than before, her eyes half-hooded and almost delirious.

Returning his attention to the sweet mound before him, he cupped one hand beneath her, easing his fingers across her opening, unsurprised to find the tips of them wet as he teased her lips apart. He nuzzled the inside of her leg, enjoying how already above him she released short breaths and tried to rock into his hand. Cullen held her steady, his remaining hand clenched on her hip to keep her upright.

He pushed against her, his fingers easing her lips apart, while the tip of his tongue lapped forth, against her. She tasted so different to anything he had tried before, a mixture of sweet and salt, tart, but not wholly unpleasant.

Again, above him her breath caught and he laughed a little, the sound rumbling through Nevena's body causing another shiver to rip through her.

He began to write, carving letters with his tongue against the walls of her heat and the sensitive, fleshy nub that he suckled on when he came to the end of an a sentence, to punctuate the conclusion of a point or statement. Each time, Nevena moaned above him, a level of desperation in her voice.

Nevena arched her hips to him, surrendering herself to his mouth and the glorious torture he persisted against her. Her legs shook and Cullen could feel that as he held them, but he kept her supported, steady, though he feared his grip would leave a bruise on her later on.

Slowly, he eased his middle finger inside her. Stroking the digit in and out of her slowly to begin with, in time with his own breathing.

"Cull-" Nevena was breathless above him, her only action was to rock her hips and grind them against his mouth to entice him on. Whenever he stopped to give his tongue a rest and pay attention to her with his lips and fingers, he moaned and he would glance at her, with her head arched and her hair spilling down her back, a film of sweat clinging to her flesh.

"Nevena," Cullen spoke against her flesh, and she shook. She was in no fit state to respond, so without warning, Cullen gently directed aside, backwards a little until her knees hit the back board of his bed. He stood only for a few seconds, helping Nevena down onto her back and to cushion the space between her hands and her back.

He kissed her soft and tender, "you alright?"

She nodded, licking the taste of herself from his lips, "your letter isn't finished yet, is it?"

Cullen smiled, "not by a long shot."

He leaned over her, laying kisses across her shining skin. He pulled her bra down with his teeth while again, he cupped her below and stroked his fingers over her core as he had down before. As he suckled and plied attention to one peaked, pink nipple, he slipped his fingers inside her, this time with slightly less care.

With a better position, her legs and part of her buttocks off the end of his bed, Cullen could attend her better. He pumped his fingers as he worked diligently, at first spelling out specific words but eventually abandoning his letter writing skills to simply draw pleasure from the woman beneath him. He suckled her, and kissed her, he ran the flat, roughness of his tongue against her, he used his free hand to push down on her abdomen, creating a sense of pressure which forced her body to quiver, all the while changing the pace of his fingers, and greeting her hips as the rose into his mouth.

She reached her peak, and released on a strained cry. Her body tensed for a moment, Cullen ceased the movement of his fingers and the work of his tongue, until the moment was done and she was on her back, quivering and sweat slicked, panting.

Quickly, Cullen moved over her, his bulk covering her own body to keep her warm as the tides of bliss washed over her. He littered her face with kisses, laughing as she breathlessly tried to form words underneath him. Stroking her skin with his hands, he occupied himself with drawing the patterns of her scars until she was recovered enough to speak.

"That was-" Nevena looked at him with wide eyes and blinked a few times, "without equal."

Cullen laughed, "you enjoyed yourself?"

Nevena nodded, "mhm-hm." Still bound, she shifted her mostly-naked body towards him. "Where did you-"

"A man never gives away his secrets." Cullen told her, growling playfully as he mockingly attacked her neck with his lips and teeth. Nevena giggled, curling towards him, slipping her top leg between Cullen's own. This time it was his breath that caught as she brushed against the hardness still prevalent in his britches and still begging for attention.

"What about you?" She rubbed her thigh against him, watching how his eyes rolled back into his head a little. "Can I satisfy you?" She continued to stroke him beneath the worn leather. Cullen's length responded, throbbing at the modest attention.

He found it hard to breath suddenly, his head swimming in heat and desire, in need and confusion.

Nevena laid a long kiss on his mouth where she could reach, continuing her actions. She breathed through her nose, concentrating, listening to Cullen's own breaths, their short in-take and long releases. She watched his head arch back, a low moan passed his lips against her face.

"Cullen?" She nuzzled his cheek. "Unbind me," she requested, her voice soft, "let me help you."

Without warning, after looking at her for a few long moments, Cullen sat up. He left Nevena on her side, watching him as he paced from the bed to the door, locked it and returned. When he did, he roughly grabbed her by the hips and pulled her towards him, rolling her onto her front so her buttocks were in the air.

"Cullen-!" Nevena grunted, trying to find a comfortable position for her head. "Cullen- I can't breathe." She tilted her head to one side. She could hear him behind her, out of her view, moving around, fabric against fabric, and sound of clothes and boots being discarded unceremoniously.

Cullen appeared before her, "sorry, love." He held the cushion that had been between Nevena's arms and back. Gently he lay it beneath her head so she had a little more support and kissed her between the eyebrows before disappearing.

"Cullen-!"

Nevena felt his hands upon her, she shuffled backwards as he pulled gently at her hips. His legs between her own nudged at her calves and without being told, she opened her legs wider for him. His hands moved down her back, rubbing at her skin, gliding over the sweat that was not yet dry. He unfastened the bra from behind her back easily and it dropped onto the covers of his bed. Behind her, Cullen let out a noise rather like a short hum and then one of his hands was gone and she could feel his length against her heat, stroking, becoming slickened with her own wetness.

He rubbed against her, holding his cock, running the length of it over her again and again, slowly, applying pressure, making her body shake with anticipation. Her fingers grappled at the binds around her wrists, she had not been annoyed by them before, but now she wanted them gone. She wanted to touch and feel and hold.

She rocked her hips, letting out an impatient groan as Cullen teased her entranced with the tip of his cock and then pulled away, stroking it against her instead.

"Cullen-!"

He bent over her, she could feel his breath on her back, his lips as they kissed her shoulder blade.

The words escaped her before she could stop them, "please, Cullen."

He was inside her, entering her at a slow pace. He reached his full length inside and then pulled back, rocking his hips slowly, entering her deep to pull out and repeat the motion. His hands lay at her hips, keeping her steady. She rose her backside to meet him, and rocked against him when she could. It was slow, so slow, so deep, it was torture.

Cullen reached around with one hand, spreading the lips of her core and teasing with his fingers. Nevena bit down on the cushion, her hands clenching behind her.

The pace changed, he was moving faster, a regular rhythm, the sound of his thighs slapping against her backside as he thrust into her fast and hard. He reached up to cup her breasts with his hands, squeezing at the fleshy mounds with his fingers. Nevena felt his teeth upon her shoulder, biting lightly.

She looked at him over her shoulder, seeing the concentration etched on his face, watching his brow furrow as he wrapped her arms around her waist, keeping her body still and slowing with his cock deep inside her.

"Nevena," he pulled out and breathed deeply. His fingers were on her bindings and after a few seconds, her arms were free. Immediately, Nevena turned around and grabbed Cullen's hands, pulling him down to the covers of the bed.

His erection stood against his belly, red and slick.

Without a moment's hesitation, Nevena was sitting above him, her hand grasped around his length. Cullen held her hips to support her, she guided him into her. Cullen groaned, and his hands tightened their grip on her hips.

Nevena rolled her hips as she took him all the way, she leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands and began to lift herself along his length, hair falling back, brushing Cullen's legs. He watched her breasts as they bounced with each over her movements, each grind, each thrust of her hips as she took him deeper into her, the way her head fell back.

He watched her, listening to her voice, her breathy moans, feeling how she clenched around him as she took him, slow, deep, rolling against his pelvis when he was completely inside her. He reached up, his hands exploring the expanse of her body, rising over her torso, grasping her breasts.

Without warning, Cullen pulled Nevena forward, causing her to topple and catch herself, her hands on either side of his head. With a wolfish grin, he ran one hand down her back, settling it into the small and began to rise his hips, thrusting upwards, wrapping his free arm across her shoulders.

She groaned into his shoulder, her hands clenching around her sheets.

Tightness buckled in Cullen's gut and he caught her mouth, their kiss swallowing his moan as he drove into her once more and toppled over the edge.

Slowly, his mind cleared, the misty heat giving way to clarity and the scent of sex and sweat in his chamber. Above him, still supporting herself on her arms, Nevena panted her breath hot against his cheek. Turning his head, Cullen applied a his lips to hers, more gently and less intense than before, more heartfelt and loving than desperate.

She smiled against his skin, and released a cry of surprise as he rolled her over onto her side, keeping her close with his hands on her back.

He slid out of her, and quickly retrieved an old, dirty shirt to lay beneath them on the covers. Too hot and sweaty to climb into bed, Cullen wrapped Nevena up in his arms, around her shoulders and over her waist, his hand dangling and his fingers stroking her back.

Nevena gently kissed the scar across his mouth, and snuggled in close.

"So much for a hot meal." She stated, "how did we get here?"

Cullen laughed. He kissed and nuzzled her hair, "Maker knows." He pulled her closer, feeling her body shake a little against the chill of the room and their drying sweat.

"Mhmm," Nevena sighed, "I missed you." She drew shapes over his chest, avoiding his gaze as he looked down at her.

With a small, quaint smile, Cullen kissed her head, "I missed you too."


End file.
